


Rise and reconquer

by yoshikageshakira



Category: RWBY
Genre: This is a sort of prologue, also religious themes, think of it as... if RT were to make a Raven short, tw for animal cruelty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24927844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshikageshakira/pseuds/yoshikageshakira
Summary: A raven slaughters a crow and becomes a phoenix.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Rise and reconquer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot I wrote on tumblr like two years ago, and it’s basically how I imagine Raven’s initiation as Tribe leader went! We get to see a bit of their culture and religion (very bird-heavy stuff)  
> This work also features my headcanon that Qrow basically killed his and Raven’s uncle, who was the leader before Raven took over, a role which their uncle and the tribe’s high priestess had groomed her for.  
> Bird up:D

The April wind carried with it small droplets of rain that lashed against the trodden ground as the footsteps of the people grew in numbers. 

They came in groups of two, three, four.

Men, women, children, elderly.

It’s not like their community wasn’t used to tension, but this time was different. Today was a day of great change, after all.

As the crowd grew, so did the mumbling of the weary voices blending into an anxious, anticipating murmur. And it was like the wind took notice of the uneased excitement as it blew ever stronger, ever louder.

Then, right before it seemed like the air would explode with chaos as the tension reached its peak, a single voice silenced it all. 

“Show your hatchling some respect, damn mongrels!”

All the eyes of every person before the large tent where they had all gathered were now latched onto the old woman that had just stepped out of it. From her appearance, it looked as though the gods had willed a miracle, letting her frail body stand on its own even with the multitude of necklaces and garments she bore.

She spoke again, her age-ridden voice hoarse and cackling.

“Five months ago, a great tragedy shrouded our tribe in incredible darkness. As our Vulture was snatched from his nestlings by the treacherous Crow. Leaving us open for the iron claws to tear us to shreads and leave us in the ashes!” 

The crowd stayed silent. The air was so thick, no one dared to even breathe, let alone speak. And so the old woman went on. 

“He who draws his sword on the back of his own flock, shall be known as Crow and _only_ Crow. Shall he be hatchling or stray, he shall bear only this name for the rest of his days on this wretched earth!”

She paused, somewhere in the crowd a baby started cooing.

“But as we crumble and fall, like the mother of the sun and skies we rise and reconquer! And just like the Crow turns towards his brethren in the dirt, so shall the Raven soar through the fire in the heavens and shower us in her powerful light!”

The curtains of the tent opened once again, and out came two girls, both of them not much older than six. One of them was carrying a tray with three small cups placed on it. The other one held what appeared to be a cage with a sheet over it. 

The two girls exchanged looks of nervousness as the one holding the cage pulled the drape on the tent once again, creating an opening. 

The next and final person to exit the tent was a young woman. She was wearing a white robe and some sort of headdress which lay red feathers over her black hair. As she passed through the opening the young girl had made for her, she looked down at the child and smiled reassuringly.

“Thank you Vernal.”

She then turned towards the old woman, who took out a small bone whistle from her necklace and blew, creating a hollow, haunting sound. 

“May the Vulture grant her strength.”

The child holding the tray walked up to the young woman, who took one of the cups and emptied in in one swig.

“May the Magpie grant her wisdom.”

She emptied the second cup, the taste of warm iron filling her mouth and throat.

“May the Raven grant her luck.”

A few laughs and whistles could be heard as she drank from the final cup. She would see to it that the ones responsible would be disciplined later. Now wasn’t the time, though. 

The tray girl stepped back, and the one named Vernal took her place beside the woman. She then began pulling the sheet off the cage, all while the old woman cried out her final statement.

“And may any Crow that lands within our nest feel through her divine the wrath of our damned ancestors! We speak this into existence by the light of the Phoenix!”

The crowd watched as the young woman carefully took out a black bird from within the cage. She held it in front of herself for a moment, closing her eyes and mumbling something inaudible. Then, with a swift, strong motion, she placed her hand around the poor creatures neck and tore its head from its body.

Her audience watched as her white robe was colored red from the innocent crow she’d captured earlier that morning. Reeking of blood both inside and out, Raven Branwen looked out over the crowd, her family, all looking back at her in awe.

She screamed.

And her people screamed with her.


End file.
